I had this one dream when I was around 7 or 8 or so. I think I had just watched the first Superman and had a dream that I ran down our driveway and just jumped right toward the hedge. When reality failed to yield the same results my dream had (namely, the silent soaring over the hedge and the park across the street and the town... sigh) I traded the dream for the memory. I consciously did it back as a kid and now whenever anybody ever asks if I have ever flown over a hedge, I tell them yes.
My boy surely has inherited much of my creative tendencies, including fantasy and imagination that verge on loco. At least in the eyes of some regimented folk.
I am pretty sure, though, that if we could all get so jazzed about birds or anemones or imagining flying, things might be a little more beautiful.
Until then, I just hope my boy can stay creative and keep playing and experimenting and learning and imagining and not get ground down to dull by society and its need to homogenize.
He is starting Kindergarten in a week.